I'm Gonna πππΎππππ ππππππΏπ ππποΌ© οΌ₯οΌΈοΌ°οΌ¬οΌ―οΌ€οΌ₯οΌ€ (Ι΄α΄α΄ ΙͺΙ΄ α΄Κα΄α΄ α΄Κα΄ α΄Κ)
CW: disturbing imagery, blood, transmissible mental illness
ββββοΌ© οΌ₯οΌΈοΌ°οΌ¬οΌ―οΌ€οΌ₯οΌ€
βββββββββIβve got the life to write but I havenβt the time.
π½ππππ ππ’πππ‘ππ π·ππ£πππ βββJ. Q. D.
π
π©Έ
π©Έ
π©Έ
π.π.π.
π΄ π
πΈπ΄πΏ
πΏπΌπΉπΈ
ππ΄πΏπΈ ππΉ π΅πΏπππ·
ππ ππ»πΈ ππ
π΄πΌπΏ . . .
β
FALL DOWN/GO BOOM
β π πππππ
βπ΅π°π²π΄ &
βππππππ
π©Έ ππππππππ *
π©Έπππ΄π
π©ΈIN . . .
βββββββββββββββπ π€ππ, πππ£π:
Sold the shit out of a solo headbutt to no-one with the blade-job and everything.
ββββββπ πΈ π² πΊ
π± π πΌ πΏ
ββββββββββββββββββββ
ββββββββββββββββπ π π π π
HEY,
HEY:
If you really want to pop a crowd?
Slump yourself.
Watch the eyes die late.
Bust your head.
Buy-rate.
It bled and it led.
Rubedo red.
Pronenessesβ spreading.
I pronounce you deadeaned.
Thud.
Incredible.
High buy-rate and a hot crowd.
Get the shroud.
Get the stretcher.
Elevate.
Apply pressure.
ββββββββΠ·Π°ΠΏΠΎΠΉ
βββββββββββββββββGet at me.β
β
HEADSLUSH BONK CONCUSS
Farced confession of an aftersmash.
Braindead mess.
Desecrated.
Self-destructed.
Blackout crash.
Rum and ash.
Hack and slash.
Fuck.
Add the math.
A coronerβs stack.
Fucked my face up.
Scrape and slash.
Inflected wound.
Gauzy gash.
But:
Must say.
In kind of a cool way.
Kabuki made-up.
Ready for runway.
Stumbling toxicology.
Acknowledge me.
Red-ringed blue-eyed blood-blonde on concrete.
Self-defeated.
Deceit of the devilβs detail.
Lopped-off skinkwhip.
Generation retail.
Clean me.
Up and out.
β
CLEARINGHOUSE (OSTRAKON)
Send out a wellness check.
Iβll heal soon.
Bury me to my neck.
I feel you.
β
DRY CLEAN ONLY
Took a tumble.
Upside of itβs:
No fumble.
Had the presence of mind to shield my sweater.
All the better.
Boiled wool.
Blundered blood.
In a backward dream.
A recreation.
A crime scene.
Doubled-over halving schemes.
β
OW, FUCK, OW, FUCK, OW, FUCK
Itβs hard to type.
Hurts to type.
It always did.
Maybe it should.
* (π ππππ-π πππ)
Thought it was a broken shoulder but itβs probably a torn rotator cuff.
Been a weak stupid tough.
Last Wednesdayβs party left me rough.
Swizzled laced and doctored-up.
β
WAITING FOR THE COCONUT TO DROP
One time I saw Brant Bjork at the (now-defunct) Satellite in Silverlake.
He and his band played a fairly mellow set.
Not the sort of thing that called for a lot of crowd engagement.
About half an hour in, between songs, the band was tuning its instruments.
A Rather Large
40+ Man
well-north of three-hunnert pounds and reddened and utterly sotted found his way to the stage.
βROCK βNβ FUCKINβ ROOOOOOOOOOLLβ heβd declared to no-one in particular, and β cliche fulfilled
β he dove to that same no-one.
Too soused to brace, the body burst amidst the unwilling.
We received him in blood as we did not in flesh.
Took the EMTs at least 45 minutes to show.
He was wearing a wedding ring.
π‘βπ ππππ ππ πππππππ . . .
MOVING ON, IN ADHERENCE WITH THE POLICY OF SLUM CLEARANCE AS LAID OUT HERE, I WILL BE COMBING THE DEATHS OF THE SUBSTACK DRAFTS FOR VIABLE CARRION.
PART II: βIβm Gonna Fucking Explodeβ is a combo-platter of thusly-plumbed nuggets and NEW INPUT.
βββ
ββI'm Gonna πππΎππππ ππππππΏπ
ββββββπΌππ‘ππππππ’ π°ππππππππ ππππππ πΏπππ
βββββββββπ
β
USER ILLUSION
βJUST PAY FOR THE PAPERβ Tony said
and
LIKE THAT Iβm
οΌ― οΌ¦ οΌ¦
Scorn of a pronghorned prophetessβ scoff.
Buttressed with hatred.
Unabated.
Assrotted wastrel.
Menial piss-abled. βββ(YELLOW TONE IDEA)
Warwageable. ββββββ(RED TONE IDEA)
βββββββSIT WITH ME NOW
ββββββββββAND
ββYOU STAND TO INHERIT A FORTUNE β
βββββββββββββββββGod-King Weasel.
βββββββββββββββAsleep at the easel.
Itβd please me to believe.
Leave me to grief.
Crisp underfoot.
Wigging out.
A wagged tailβs proud.
High-aloft aloof.
Afoot.
Climb upon the roof.
No-net no-look.
Gloriless and disemboweled.
TO CREATE IN PUBLIC.
β
CACO ERGO SUM
In one nightβs waking slumber.
I lost a grimoire and won another.
Psychic cannibal drooling double.
The cruelty of swords.
The lowering of levels.
The restriction of words.
Worth less than ever.
Discount clever dust-collector.
Remaindered.
Fractional, factionless.
Perverse incentives.
Peeping pent-up.
Surface shot.
Buried splendor.
Send her.
Knockeyed grin of a rotgut vendor.
Blueblond blender.
Slow sapphire drip.
Steeple-tip.
Manicured salesmanβs hands.
Waved with abandon.
Like a drowningman.
Or a downtownβs planning.
Keep grasping but that worldβs gone.
Keep asking without function.
Youβve overdressed for the lydian luncheon.
Queued up but your lines are all punched-in.
Black-cat.
Cute cut.
In a sassoon zoo.
Artlessly warring.
Tipped-canoe.
Toppled colossus.
Felled and felt-up.
Croupier green.
Celluloid svelte.
Theater screens.
β
MODEL POISONING
Nothing ended amicably.
No amity no comity.
Nothing brotherly.
Senses culled. Null. All calm.
An object for ownership.
Too washed-up for worship.
Nullo.
Nullo.
Nothing in slo-mo.
Absence compounding.
Instinct rousing, doused.
Snuffed flames sniffling excuses.
Trifling abuses.
Try not to be useless.
Lest the shoe fit.
Boy.
Young man on the verge of being something other than.
Unforced errata.
Penitentiary piΕata.
Learnt nothing.
Burnt offβring.
Salvage title champion of the world.
Savaged in the scrapyard.
Strung along for pearls.
Over-ass on-end.
Possum-assed pretender.
Ass-gasket forfeit.
Art-portrait forgeit.
Auspicious palms, extended.
Under seizure render.
Sunshine salesman.
Lowly leisure vendor.
πΌπ πππΌπ πΎπππ ππΌππΌπΏπππ . . . β
βI am terrified of moving pictures. They are the dreams of an opium addict. From a single inch of film emerge giants who fill the whole theater.β
ββββββββββββββββ Edogawa Ranpo
βββI am ready for the ocean.
β
RED HOT (IβVE GOT A THING)
Count backwards from fuck.
Regress into near-life consciousness.
Slide sideways.
You know what you were.
Soon enough youβllβve begun speaking in βI
β-statements, which is to say first-person.
IMMERSION.
Listen:
This is all you, man.
βIβ didnβt do it.
You did.
Got it?
. . .
A MIND FOREVER VOYEURING
also known as
BOIL THE OCEAN (A Movie You Made to Scare Yourself)
also known as
[slide missing]
I saw from her nametag that her name was Breanna and I rolled its syllables in my mindβs mouth as I wished to roll her rosebud nipple-tips ever-visible peek-pique-peaking through the thinness of lisle cotton uniform here sunlit in this college town nightβs becoming as the shadows play long on the slender of swan-neck and waist-tuck.
SHE INTERRUPTS:
βDo you, um, know what you, like, want?β
The cafΓ© buzzed cuckoo overclock.
I must presume her a student and wonder involuntarily at her field of study (wonder at her puddles and wonder at her muddies) β perhaps sheβs a classicist or a basket-weaver with an ass full of Lisztlessness that I could wrap-up and tap out as a tasket for gifted blasphemy, tisketry.
CLUELESS CLAIROL
But I ainβt afraid of the number thirteen, and Iβve got Satan on my team, looming thunder, teeming legions, Hollywood regency.
Fledged allegiance.
Far-flung.
Sheβs young and Iβve clung close-βnough near.
Nested.
A lamp-lit in effigy.
Iβm in a trenchcoat and thereβs trillions of me.
Possessed electricity.
Infested.
One name pluriform entities.
βUm, sir?β
I imagine her stuffed with me.
The policeman in line behind meβs baton audibly hardens.
βI beg pardon?β
Her again:
βI asked if you know what you want.β
Stammering βAh-ah-ah-ahβ and Iβm βcortado-and-a-muffinβ in a huff.
Gushing.
Sheβs back at me with βnine-fifty.β
I laugh.
Times are fucked up.
Nine-fifty.
I tip my fedora to her.
25%.
Or more.
And Iβll tip it again.
Upon the glow at the end.
One moment more.
Espresso foaming.
While I fingerpaint my name.
Tribute to the store.
Where sheβs just tallied my muffin.
My cortado.
My score.
Where we touch sistine grime.
When weβre done conversing.
I grin a grin sheβll surely understand.
As an invitation to kissing.
(βOne day that catβll come on demandβ)
I have jazz voices in my head.
Different registers.
Sheβs at the register.
Breasts heavier.
In a sigh.
Sheβs done with this shit.
So am I.
β[in those days] nobody knew who Rupert Murdoch was or what he looked like.β
βββββ John Langley, COPS
ββββββββββββββββββββββββpresented in
βββββββββββββFRAGMENTED REALITY
ββββββββββββββββββββββββa subsidiary of
ββββββππππππππππ
ββββββββββββββInevitability β Delivered.β
I AM A BLEEDING CHARACTER. βββββIT IS OK. βββββTHANK YOU.
ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββSELECT ME?
βββββββπππ πππππππππ πππππππ . . .
πππππ πππππππ ππππππ / a / k / a
οΌͺοΌ±οΌ€ is a self-taught integrated media company founded haunted and enchanted in π»πΎππ π΄ππΎπ, π²π°.
βThank you . . .
Thank you.β
Friendly Uncle
β β β β β Verified Purchase
Slice of Life of Chad sex addict
One of the few non fiction and non self improvement books that was interesting until the very last chapter. Usually an autobiographical book about a 40y old guy with 9% bodyfat screwing three teenagers a week would be depressing, but somehow author manages to make himself pathetic at the same time in a funny way. He's humping and crying. Many funny moments and internet references.
Brett M
β β β β β Verified Purchase
worth it
I bought this book and now I can't stop having bareback sex with young Asian girls. Thanks!
Jay
β β β β β Verified Purchase
amazing. I wish more authors were as brave as this.
D S J A
Psychotic ramblings of a porn/sex addicted man
β β βββ Verified Purchase
Honestly it has a few good excerpts, especially the one on McDonald's. I found myself laughing more times than not because of the sheer absurdity of what this guy thinks/writes. I actually am just giving a poor rating because of all the misspellings I found. It's relatable in some ways except for the tongue in cheeks comments on pedophilia. It's like yeahh, speak for yourself buddy. If you're looking for a good perverted read you might get your moneys worth. For all else its a vapid recollection of society, women, and the pons brain of the male mind. Certainly unique but Charles did what this guy does with a lot more taste. Read sometimes like a cheap version of "Women".
Tim W.
β β β β β Verified Purchase
Funny and insightful. A great introduction on the Manosphere and what it takes to be a real man these days, who can still get some pussy in our overly woke "society". Take a page from this book, men: women may say no but we all know they don't really mean it.